My weird: Disabled

Unlike the rest of the list, being disabled is not a lifelong experience for me. In fact it’s been excruciating to get used to.

I was on the final year of my university degree. My mental health had been in tatters since my first year when I had a near-breakdown brought on by issues with the other people in my accommodation block. Doctors had been unhelpful. Looking back, I think they heard “I am having escalating violent intrusive thoughts and I’m worried I’m going to kill people” and decided I was faking mental health issues based on movies or something.

Eventually, after it was clear that I wasn’t going to take the hint and go away (I am firmly ideologically opposed to randomly murdering people), one GP diagnosed me with depression, gave me antidepressants, and told me to push through my symptoms and keep following my normal routine.

Turns out I actually had autistic burnout (ie nervous system damage) caused by acute chronic stress and pushing through was deadly advice. In their defence, science only acknowledged that autistic burnout is medically a thing about five years ago. Over five years too late for me.

I wish that I’d taken more heed of the fact that pushing through wasn’t working and things just got harder rather than easier. But everyone told me that’s how depression worked, and I was juggling a whole bunch of stuff including accessibility issues I wasn’t yet aware of (hence the acute chronic stress), and I was worn down from getting refused help so many times.

And then, one Thursday afternoon about halfway through the first semester of my masters, I was working on an essay and something in my brain went… not literally pop. At the time it felt like I had hit “the wall”, when your brain declares “we’re out. No more”. Which was a routine occurrence (fyi this is a sign you are habitually overextending and accruing massive damage to your body).

So I packed up for the day.

But the next day, despite resting and going to bed early, I didn’t feel refreshed. In fact I felt worse. More exhausted. Muzzier. Unable to focus or understand material I usually found easy and engaging. I concluded I was coming down with something. T’was the season for viral infections after all. I’d take the weekend off, maybe part of next week, and be over it.

It never went away.

Within less than forty-eight hours of that seemingly innocuous “pop” moment, I could no longer understand notes I’d written the day before. When I handed my work to other people they understood it, assured me it made sense and I clearly had a grasp on the topic.

Except now I didn’t. It was like parts of my brain had just… closed up shop. Retired early. I was left flailing, skills and knowledge I’d accrued throughout my life yanked out from under me. My body turned on me, no longer a vessel but instead a leaden prison I had to drag through the day.

My dreams shattered and the shards cut me open. I had to give up most of my hobbies because they were no longer accessible to me. Relationships faded and decayed because I couldn’t even handle day-to-day living, much less remember to reach out to people.

It’s been eight years of trying to recover. Trying to get medical help. Trying to find anything which helps. And I’m still barely functional. Severe brain fog, chronic fatigue, impaired executive function and massively reduced cognitive ability.

I can no longer remember what it was like to be able to vacuum and shower and change my bed without straining. Now I’m lucky if I can manage two such tasks in one day, and I’ll either be running on adrenaline or need to lie down for an hour between. There are days I spend staring blankly at a video playlist because it feels less pathetic than just staring at the wall.

Having accepted that I’m unemployable, that traditional “success” will likely never be within my reach, I’ve turned my focus to what meaningful things I can do on my worst day. And to me, that’s writing. Creating. Putting my spark out into the world.

My disability only affects my writing by getting in the way, but I’m trying to learn how to work around it.